Storm Bringer
by MuseofaBlindPoet
Summary: The birth of a charactermuse. Mixed elements from comics and movies, read to understand.
1. Before the Story

**Title: Storm Bringer**

**Rating: Not yet**  
**  
_Disclaimer: I don't own my muses, Jack and Sands are all Johnny Depp's and Remy is Marvel's. Everything else is mine.. DO NOT use the characters in the story WITHOUT permission. _**

'..' Thought

The writer sits, a blank page before her, pen in hand. She hesitates a moment glancing back to her muses. "Are you guys sure about this?"

A single perfect brow arches over reflective dark sunglasses, "Sugarbutt, you are a writer aren't you?"

She nods vaguely to the figure sprawled across her couch. Casting a glance to the man in the kitchen doorway, still uncertain.

"Chere" He pushes from the frame moving to her side with feline grace, he rests a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. "I know it's been 'while, bit it's time t' start 'gain."

She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep steadying breath. She then looks passed him to the third man who lays on the floor humming, he gives her a small smile and nod. "It be time luv."

Finally she nods, turning her attention back to the page with a level of determination. "All right then, let's do this..."

* * *

The pale light reaches out, pushing away the shadows of the night. The world is for a moment silent, holding it's breath in anticipation. The hand of dawn creeps forward further, penetrating the light fog, forcing it to clear. Materializing almost as if by magic a single figure approaches. A crash of thunder breaks the silence and the world seems to sigh. 

His movements are fluent, born of an uncanny physical awareness and confidence. This man knows himself, he has no qualms with pushing the limits of the world around him. He pauses, taking in his surroundings in the day's early light. Rich violet eyes dance in humor as he focuses on the small awakening town sprawled before him. A faint, satisfied smile dances across his lips and he advances.

A frown creases her brow as the fresh sunlight sneaks passed her curtain to caress her features. A thick groan breaches her throat and she rolls, burrowing into her blankets in a refusal to acknowledge the birth of a new day. She sighs resettling into slumber when a sudden crash of thunder rattles the window. She bolts upright, crimson locks flying wildly in a haze about her shoulders. After a moment she flops back tonelessly, glaring at the blinking digits of the the clock. Raising her hand above it a split second before it blares to life. Slapping off the alarm she swings her feet to the floor still groggy. "Cassandria! You up girl?"

Narrowed emerald hues turn to the door in annoyance. "Yeah Papa. I'm 'wake.. " her voice lowers in to a mutter, "wish I wasn'."

"Well hurry up. Storm's comin' an' we gotta get the horses stabled b'fore it breaks."

She rolls her eyes releasing a sigh of resignation. She pushes herself to her feet, grabbing the worn jeans from the foot of the bed and a shirt from the back of her chair she shrugs into them. Pausing before the mirror she combs her fingers through her hair and pulls it into a hasty ponytail. With a final, longing look toward her bed she leaves the room, heading straight away for the kitchen and coffee.

* * *

The writer pauses, her brow furrowing in confusion as she again looks to her muses. "I don't know these characters." 

Her troubled gaze jumps from one to the next, "Are any of you even in this story?"

Noting the hint of growing panic in her tone Remy looks over to Sands and Jack, who rises from his position on the floor to prop himself up on his elbows. "No luv."

He tilts his head back, beaded braids jangling softly as he studies the ceiling. "Ye have t' be trustin' us. It's a story worth tellin'."

Sands nods from the couch. She looks from them to the page rubbing her temple, more than slightly unsettled by the fact that for once all three are in perfect agreement. She shakes her head as she returns the pen to the page. "All right, I trust you."

* * *

Stepping onto the porch, her second mug of coffee in hand, Cassie studies the sky with a frown. 'From that thunder clap you'd think the storm was right on top of us.' Searching the clear blue expanse she shakes her head. "Papa? You sure that was thunder?"

Though she did not hear his approach she knew he was just behind her. "Can' a'ways be trustin' y' eyes Baby Girl."

She glances back to note he is massaging his arthritic shoulder and she nods. "All right then, let's bring'em in."

The little boy, soda in hand, watches silently as the dark stranger moves steadily passed. He shudders involuntarily as a piercing violet gaze focuses on him, seeming to momentarily pin him to the wall. As that penetrating stare returns to the road ahead the boy shudders again. Wide eyes never leaving the black, duster clad back of the stranger. His only clear thought, 'Dangerous'.

* * *

Leaning back in her chair, the writer again massages her temple. "Okay the story is started" 

She glances to the man kneeling at her side. "I need to stop for a moment, relax my mind."

He nods in agreement, "A'right chere, but this is one y' goin' t' 'ave t' finish."

She nods, "I know Rem, I know."

She sits at the top of the stairs, notebook on her lap, pen in hand. Remy leans against the rail behind her, legs stretched out before him as he lights a cigarette. Jack stands beside him, peering over the rail. Sands sits a few steps below her leaning back on his elbows. "Time to write again Sugarbutt."

With a sigh of resignation she puts the pen to work..

* * *

Cassie sits on the porch rail, her knees drawn up as she watches a puffy while cloud drift by. The horses stabled over an hour ago and still no storm. She shakes her head looking to her father who sits on the swing nearby. "I don't get it Papa. Where's the rain?" 

Her attention returns to the sky, "Even the news is saying we got a major storm coming, but I don't think I've ever seen a day so beautiful."

He chuckles quietly, "Y' jus' don' 'member when y' were little Baby Girl. Livin' up in th' city, you've f'gotten th' wild storms out here. They sneak up on y'."

She smiles coming off the rail, "Well, I'm going into town." Her tone turns playfully mocking, "I'll get a book to get me through this doozy of a storm we're havin'."

Steering the jeep into Willow Peak Creak she is shocked to find the streets empty. True, she's only been back six months after almost ten years, but this is boarding on ridiculous. Parking the jeep she looks up the empty street, suppressing a shudder, 'It's like a ghost town.'

Shaking off the feeling she open the door, gravel crunching beneath her feet as she makes her way toward the town's single diner. The pleasant jingle of the bells over the door break the silence in the small establishment. She stops, tucking a stray hair behind her ear as she looks around perplexed. "Collin?"

With a growing concern she moves slowly through the stillness. "Collin?"

She pushes open the kitchen door, casting about a quick glance her frown deepens. Releasing the door she steps forward, letting it swing behind her as she turns off the glowing, red hot burner, she murmurs to herself, "What the hell?"

Standing at the top of the steps her father scratches at his thinning scalp. He shakes his head beginning to turn when movement along the road draws his attention. Stepping from the porch he raises a hand to block some of the sun's glare, his brow rises as he calls out. "Hey Mister!"

The dark clad figure pauses at the end of the drive. A gaze the old man can feel even from the distance separating them sending chills down his spine. Clearing his throat he straightens, "Ain' nothin' tha' way fer miles an' there's a storm comin'. Why don' y' come on up t' th' house t' wait'er out?"

* * *

The writer shudders with a sudden chill, setting the pen aside she shakes her head, "I don't think I like this story. Who is that guy?" 

She looks to the top of Sand's dark head. Receiving no answer from the trio she turns looking to Remy and Jack. "Where are all the people? This story isn't making sense."

Jack offers her a faint smile, while Remy closes his eyes to avoid her gaze. "Ye're just goin' to have t' write it luv."

She focuses on Jack, the sad note to his voice setting her more on edge. "Why? What if I don't want to?"

He shakes his head in response, "Y have to luv.. Ye have to.. "

* * *

Stepping back out of the diner she nervously tugs a loose strand of hair. 'No cars, no bikes, no people.. What the hell is going on in this town?' Starting the jeep she pulls into the road, glancing towards the freeway. That's when she sees it, the largest, ugliest, blackest boiling cloud she have ever witnessed in her twenty-five years. 

Slamming her foot on the gas she jerks the wheel for home, away from that cloud that looks to touch the ground, devouring everything in it's path. Her heart thundering in her throat she speeds through town, ignoring the stop signs, ignoring the two traffic lights. Her gaze constantly drawn to the rearview mirror. She watches in growing terror as the thing overtakes the small town.

She jerks the wheel, sending the jeep from the road to tear across the lawn. Panting as if she had not driven but ran the entire way, she leaps from the still running automobile. "Papa!"

She shoves open the door, tripping over her own feet in her haste. Strong hands catch her shoulders.

* * *

The writer pauses, pen hovering just above the page as she looks to the trio. She swallows realizing they had moved. All three hover close, attention rapt on the page. With a deep breath she continues, letting the black ink spill across the sheet.

* * *

Her breath catches, wide emerald hues taking in the man before her until she reaches his face. 'Oh my God.. I can't see his face.' The thought skitters across her panicked mind even as she meets his gaze. "Who the hell are you?" 

His voice is cool and calm, inviting as a crystal clear lake, "It is time"

She trembles and yet cannot pull away, "Time for what?"

There is a not of humor to his next words, "Time for you to be written."

* * *

"W-What the hell?" The writer stares stunned at the page. Sands whispers breathlessly in her ear, "Keep writing."

* * *

"What do you mean? Who are you?" She jerks away, flinching as thunder rolls outside announcing that the storm is upon them. "I am the writer's tool, the Storm Bringer, and you are to be written." 

She shakes her head not understanding as she back away. A deafening crash of thunder causing the very foundation of the house to shake sounds around her. She closes her eyes tightly as vertigo overtakes. Suddenly, all is silent.

"This is a joke.." She drops the pen, staring at it in disbelief. Remy massages her shoulder gently, "She's your character chere. Now y' have t' write her."

* * *

Rereading the story the writer glares at them, "You wanted me to write this so I would have a new character?" 

They nod, speaking in unison, "You have to write.. Or the fictives die."

Picking up the pen, her personal writing pen, she twirls it in her hand. Noting for the first time in years the violet engraving on the black surface, 'Storm Bringer', she mutters to herself as she turns to a fresh page, "My tool..."

* * *

_Kind of two stories in one in this chapter.. A writer and her muses and the story she's being forced to write.. Well.. the character she being forced to bring to life even though she doesn't necessarily want to... _

Yes.. The writer is me.. and No.. I'm not really sure I want to write this character but dear Jack, Remy, and Sands are insisting..

So I am...

**_The Demented Ferret_**


	2. Hide and Seek

_A/N & Disclaimer: First off... indicates a jump between characters... and - - these little things indicate thought... Second, a number of you will notice me using Cassie as well as the title 'Storm Bringer' in two other stories in two other fandoms. This is the Pirates of the Carribean fic. I do have a reason for doing this, eventually the three will be tied together by that one character. Read 'Before the Story' and you might understand. _

Everything recognizable.. isn't mine.. everything else is.. Don't use it without permission...

Hide -N- Seek

"Cap'n?" Standing before the figure at the helm, barely visible in the thick fog, he pushes the concern from his tone as their gazes meet. "Sails off th' starboard Cap'n."

He looks out into the fog, watching his captain carefully, though covertly. The captain raises a hand, fingertips touching brow absently. "What's 'er colors mate?"

He cannot quiet hide a grin of anticipation, "It's th' one Cap'n, an' she be runnin low."

He feels the adrenaline begin coursing through his veins at the bright glint which jumps to the captain's eyes, he bounds into motion even before the order. "Make ready ye dogs! It be time!"

Cannon fire echoes through the fog causing James to jump, grabbing his jacket he hurries from the cabin. Coming to the helm he focuses on the man there even as another shot disturbs the air. -No way to discern the distance due to the bloody fog.- "Gillette. Report."

The captain strains to see as he motions, "Hard to tell Commodore. Thought we saw a few flashes to port. I have adjusted course." He shakes his head turning his full attention to James, "We followed the Pearl into this mess. It is possible Sparrow is trying to out maneuver us in the fog."

"That does not explain the cannon fire." James peers ahead as a sudden flash is visible, followed by another echoing boom. Moments later the fog parts just enough to allow those about the Dauntless to glimpse the battle, which would be better described as a slaughter.

Commodore James Norrington clenches his fists at his sides as the pirate's ship cuts away into the fog, leaving behind the Sweet Maria, well what was left. She is split in half as if severed by an immense cutlass, smoke and flames billow from what was once her helm, and all about her float the bodies of her crew. "Ready the boats!"

With silent grace the Pearl slices through the fog, her speed lessened by the damped sails. The crew remains still and watchful, more than a few of them admiring their captain's composed demeanor. His hand rests lightly on the helm, relying more on instinct than vision. His gaze flickers to the right an instant before a shadow looms from the blanket surrounding them. With a low snarl he quickly turns her hard to port barely avoiding collision with the other ship. Having already ordered the crew to ready the guns he cannot resist the grin as they fire a solid hit upon the behemoth. He motions to Ana even as he releases the helm. Even rocking from the impact the other vessel manages to pull ahead as he pushes his way to the bow for a better look. He is pleased to note the fog is clearing. "Oars! Get us out!"

They remain within sight of the other ship, following her through the thinning mist. He remains at the bow studying the ship ahead as Gibbs comes to his side, "That ain' th' Dauntless Jack. Ye be thinkin' they sunk 'er?"

"Can't say I know Gibbs, but that lady there be runnin' low. Ye know 'er?" He looks sharply to his friend, who shakes his balding head. As he begins to speak movement from the other vessel catches his attention. "Bloody hell Jack! She's comin' 'bout for attack!"

Turning on heel he makes for the helm, shouting orders the entire way, "We hit 'er once, we'll do it again! Trim th' sails! Pull th' oars! Up with th' bloody flag!"

Reclaiming control he smiles with pride as the crew scrambles, the fog finally clear. Maneuvering with ease they are once more along side the other, close enough to see she is in no condition to fight and to hear the barked orders of her captain. Just as he prepares to give the order to board he is distracted. The behemoth that moves with a grace nearly matching the Pearl turns hard starboard, jerking away while from her helm, looking so much like a rag, a once beautiful gown tumbles towards the depths between the ships. A trail of crimson locks, as well as the solid splash indication enough for Jack that indeed there was a highborn woman in that gown. "Man overboard!"

Pushing away a few of the crowded men Jack spares a final glance to the ship slipping back into the fog. Kneeling beside the sputtering woman he is first struck by the fact that even soaked her crimson waves shine with a luster rivaling fire.

"Easy luv." He smoothes a hand over her back as she pushes aside that mane enough to peer at him with one wide emerald hue, her breath hitches and she whispers, "More pirates?"

"Cap'n Jack Sparrow. Welcome 'board th' Black Pearl." He spreads his hands as he spreads with an easy smile. Whispering as she closes her eyes, passing out, "Lady Cassandria Rain."

Her eyes flutter as consciousness returns, fingertips rising to her brow. She takes a moment to assess her surroundings, the gentle sway of a ship, softness below her obviously a bed, the heady scent of incense, and quiet breath of another close by. Fully opening her eyes she glances about the large cabin, her gaze settling on the figure standing near. Undeniably handsome, obviously a pirate, the captain her mind tells her. She allows her eyes to again flutter closed as she groans, fingertips pressing in her distress.

"Well, seein' ye be 'wake. How 'bout some answers Lady Rain." She cracks open an eye as he pulls a chair to her side. "What's a lovely lass as yerself doin' with pirates?"

"You speak as though you are not one of the same." She arches a brow staring at him fully now. "I was taken from the Sweet Maria, for ransom I suppose. I imagine you shall do the same Captain Sparrow."

He cannot resist the smile at her tone, even after being thrown off a ship as a distraction she retains her spunk. "Oh I be thinkin' I jus' may. How long where ye 'board?"

"Not long, I imagine you heard the cannon fire." She again closes her eyes, obviously strained, "There is no one to ransom me to Captain. As I attempted to explain to that other fine gentleman, when he sank the ship he killed my family. I suppose he felt I was expendable using me to get away from you."

His brow arches in contemplation, "Interesting, an' why would they be wantin' t' do that ye think?"

With a heavy sigh she studies him once more, "How do I know that if I tell you, you will not use me to get what they have taken and kill me?"

He leans forward, her question taking him by surprise at the implication, "They got somethin' worth that much eh? Well lass, somewhere in that fog be th' Commodore from Port Royale. Ye tell me, I get th' treasure, ye get a dingy an' a pick up from th' Royal Navy. Ye don' tell me, I drop ye back in th' water, savvy?"

Her eyes narrow as she weighs her options before replying, "I come from England. My family was wealthy, all of our belongings where aboard the Sweet Maria," her voice is tired, "gems, gold, silver by the barrels. They are heading for an isle nearby."

"Where lass?" His brows rise as he studies her. She sits up glaring at him, "How am I to know? I was a hostage remember and not aboard more than quarter of an hour. I suppose it twould be a safe assumption on your part that the isle would lie in the direction they were going before running into you."

She tugs at the shift her dress was replaced with, noting it for the first time. Her haughty demeanor falters as she looks to him with wide eyes, her tone the barest of whispers, "Where is my clothing?"

He leans back in his seat, a mischievous smile dancing over kissabley full lips as he drawls, "Well luv, wouldn' be wantin' y' t' catch a chill." His brow arches meaningfully, "So I took th' liberty of 'aving m' firs' mate change ye."

He stands stretching as she stares at him in borderline terror. Taking his time he crosses the room, "There be a dress ye can change into on th' desk. An' please Cassie luv don' lookit me so, m' firs' mate be a woman same as you."

Shutting the door behind him he leans against it for a moment laughing richly as something sounding suspiciously like his pillow thumps against it.

* * *

_**A/N2:** Just so everyone knows where this stands in relation to the Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl... a week after the end._

**_The Demented Ferret_**


	3. Deception

_A/N: Okay, there was a bit of a time jump between the last chapter and this one, three days to be exact. Don't be mad at me. Please don't be mad at me.. Things do get better after this._

**Deception**

As the Pearl slices through the waves circling the island the crew stands ready, looking for any sign of the other ship. Jack stands at the helm, kohl lined eyes narrowed as a wave of uneasiness sweeps through him. He casts a sidelong glance to Cassie standing at his side, his tone sober. "May should go into me cabin luv, good chance this'll get violent if they be here."

"I want to see them fall." She shakes her head, fire red braid swinging with the motion. She does not look away from the coastline as she speaks, her emerald hues hard with steely determination. Drawing his attention back to the island she points. "There, is that a cove?"

"Sails Ho!" Sure enough the cove appears, the huge dark ship anchored there. With a few barked orders the Pearl slows as they asses the other ship. It rests low in the water and does not appear to have anyone on deck. Jack steers his lady alongside the other vessel as they prepare to board. A number of crates sit on the ship's deck but still none of her crew can be seen. The Pearl's crew boards with silent efficiency, moving among the crates. Jack and Cassie watch from the helm, "Somethin' ain' right here."

As if Jack's quiet observation were a signal the larger crew of the other ship come from behind the crates and from under tarps surrounding his crew. Drawing his cutlass Jack releases the helm only to find a wickedly curved blade at his throat. Cassie presses against his side as she whispers huskily into his hair, "I suggest you surrender Captain Sparrow."

His eyes widen as he drops his sword, his throat going dry as her hand caresses his side snaking down to his pistol. Swallowing hard he gives the order to stand down. The Pearl's crew drop their weapons looking back to Jack in dazed surprise. Once in custody the one that seemed to be in charge grins to Jack and Cassie, "Orders Cap'n?"

"Get them ashore Mr. Sweets. I want them all bound hand an' foot." Jack jerks in realization as she urges him forward while speaking. She meets his wide gaze with an innocent smile, betrayed by the malice dancing in her eyes as she curtsies to him mockingly. "Captain Cassandria Rain of the Deceiver. Did I fail to mention that Jack?"

A plank is quickly placed between the ships and Sweets moves to grasp Jack's arm pulling him away. Laughter rings from the Deceiver's crew as they bind those of the Pearl and push them overboard into the water. The pirate crew, led by Cassie climb into the boats and tow the sputtering crew along with Jack to the beach.

Bound separate with armed guards around all Jack watches the witch talk to her first mate Sweets. His gaze narrows as she comes to his side. He jerks away as she trails a fingertip down his cheek, "Oh what's the matter Jack?"

His jaw clenches at the purred question, glaring at her. "What's t' happen t' us?"

She taps her chin thoughtfully before answering in a conversational tone. "Well Jack, you must understand, I have no use for that tub of yours. I think I will use the sails for curtains for starters, and the lumber to repair the Deceiver. "

She leans back with a laugh as he lunges towards her snarling. "Oh you of course," she pats him on the head as she stands, "get a front row seat Captain Sparrow."

Jerking against his bonds with a howl he watches as the Pearl's sails are removed and brought ashore. Banking cracks fill the air as his lady screams, portions of her deck being ripped up. The Deceiver's crew works fast leaving gaping holes across her deck.

Jack slumps watching them transfer the guns, furnishings, and supplies from the wounded ship, they even claim her sweeps, leaving her a shell. All the while Cassie stands a few feet away watching him smugly. He closes his eyes in an attempt to stop the flow of tears as his heart breaks. Again he jerks as she lays her hands on his shoulders, having not noticed her moving behind him, she whispers to him. "We aren't done Jack."

"I'll kill you." He growls deep in his throat as he looks up to see them spreading the Pearl's main sail out on the beach. She shakes her head nuzzling his neck. "You'll never find me."

She stands abruptly moving to her grouped crew. Jack's eyes narrow again as he watches them, too far away to hear her orders. The crew begins cutting up the sail into squares with hearty laughter. He shifts, casting a glance along the beach to his grouped crew. Meeting those worried gazes he can do nothing but shake his head. He stiffens as two members of the wretched crew yank the small bound man from the group, dragging him towards the squared sail. His eyes widen in renewed horror, vigorously fighting his bonds, a cry climbing from his abused throat as they wrap the little man in one of the squares like a mummy, securing it tightly around his squirming form.

Quickly the same is done to Gibbs, Ana, Cotton, and all the rest. The whole while Jack fights and screams until he is hoarse. Choking on sobs his attention jumps to movement on the Pearl as Cassandria herself shimmies out onto the figurehead, cutting away the upraised arms holding the sparrow at the elbows letting it fall into the water with a cry of triumph.

Two crew members of the Deceiver hold him still as the lumps of fabric that is his crew are loaded onto a single longboat manned by five men. They row out into the deep. He stills in horror unable to tear his gaze away as one by one his crew, all good people, good pirates, are dumped into the depths with no chance of survival. He slumps again, his chin dropping to his chest in complete defeat as he awaits his own dark fate.

He does not move once while the crew celebrate around bonfires, drinking his rum. He does not so much as twitch as he is yanked to his feet just passed dusk. He does not help as he is dragged towards the boats and the last square of black cloth. He does not fight as his head is jerked back by his hair, noting the Pearl being set up to be towed. He does not react as Cassie appears before him smiling sweetly. Nor when she removes his hat placing it upon her own head. Me makes no sound as the square of fabric is draped over his shoulders like a cape and he is dumped into a small boat with another man.

He lays on his side willing himself dead as the man rows to the ships. He is forced to sit up, held by steely hands as the boat is lashed to the Deceiver. The man lashes his bound hands and feet to the seat of the small boat and climbs into his ship with the oars. He stares blankly at the passing waves for two hours as they sail out of sight of the island. Jack tries with little success to block out the cheers of the pirates above him as they cut the leads to the Pearl, setting her afloat. He twitches hearing nearing thunder, his eyes squeezing shut as they leave his lady crippled to the elements.

He looses track of time, images of the passed hours and the cries of his lost crew as they were wrapped up haunting him. The violent storm unleashes it's fury upon them, tossing his little boat against the side of the Deceiver. Even over the crashing waves and howling winds he clearly hears a voice he will never forget. "Good luck Captain."

Loosed from the ship, left to the elements the same as his lady, he looses consciousness.

_

* * *

_

**A/N2: **-Squeaks... runs and hides-


	4. Understanding

**Understanding**

The writer sets aside the notebook. Turning in her chair she looks warily to her muses. Remy leans against the doorway, handsome features taunt, jaw clenched as he stares unseeing at the floor. Sands sits on the couch, forehead resting in his hand, elbows perched on his knees, sunglasses dangling from his fingertips. Jack sits in the middle of the floor his hands limp at his sides, knees drawn up, hidden face causing his words to be muffled. "Lass? Wot ye doin?"

She winces at the pain-laced question, shaking her head she points at them each in turn with her pen. "You three wanted me to write remember? You're my muses, story ideas come from you."

She purses her lips looking to the floor. "It's this character, she refuses to be a stereotypical OC." She looks to them pleadingly, "It's not something I can explain, it doesn't make sense."

"Of coarse it does." The four start at the silky statement flowing from the shadows of the hall. Sands' gun appears in his hand instantly as he snarls towards the sound. Jack scrambles to his feet, fumbling for his own pistol as anger lashes through his system. None notice as Remy fades into the shadows, crimson eyes narrowing dangerously.

Stepping into the room she brushes a stray flaming lock from her forehead. "It was you three that pushed the writer, it was you that tore me from my home, my family, to be some.. _character_. To be some little love interest." She shakes her head with the bitter words, "I'm not a character. I'm a muse same as you, you cannot harm me anymore than each other."

Meeting each of their fierce gazes with a cold laugh, she moves to settle on the stool near the writer. "I will be there for every story you three inspire, you're fics will never be the same."

The writer looks nervously between them, noting Jack's wide, shocked stare and the tremble in Sands' hand. As well as Remy's disappearance, she knows he is near. "Okay, enough!" She points to Cassie-muse, "You have done enough in these stories, you ruined them, you broke them. Now leave them to rebuild. These are still _my_ stories and they will be balanced. Anything you want to happen in any of my stories from here on in you discuss with me prior, just as they do."

"Agreed." The redhead nods with a smug grin. The writer sighs massaging her temple, "I'm taking a break from this, not adding more until we get some reviews on this madness."

_**

* * *

**_

A/N: Well.. Jack's branch of this story is complete.. I will be doing the other two stories that take place during this little bit of muse madness.. so keep a look out for them..


End file.
